Ibid
by K Hanna Korossy
Summary: The Monster at the End of This Book tag: There were whole books about their personal lives. How could they not read?


**Ibid.**  
K Hanna Korossy

There were whole _books_ about their personal lives: their hunts, their loved ones, their secrets and private moments. No matter how much that sickened them, how could they not read?

00000

_" '…I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. And now I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with—' "_

"Sam?" Sam's head whipped up, to see his brother watching him uncertainly. "Dude, are you…crying?"

"What? No!" Sam shoved the dog-eared book under his pillow and jumped to his feet. "Hey, uh…I'm gonna go get some…pie. Yeah. You want anything else? Beer? Burger, extra onions?"

"…No," Dean said extra slowly, like he might be a moron. "You sure you're okay, Sammy? Ghoul's drained you pretty dry."

"I'm good. I'll just, uh…" Sam pointed to the door, then hurried out, leaving his bewildered brother behind.

He kept wiping his eyes all the way to the bakery in the center of town. And swore he wasn't going to let his brother down, either.

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_ " 'Stay back,' Max warned. 'This is not about you.' _

_ 'You wanna kill her, you gotta go through me first,' Dean vowed._

_ Max seemed to think about it a second. Then, 'Okay,' he said calmly. _

_ The gun went off. Blood splattered the wall behind Dean like red rain._

_ A bullet hole in his forehead and his eyes blank, Dean wobbled a minute, then fell to the floor, dead before he hit."_

Dean looked up from the book, staring unseeingly out the windshield. He'd known Sam had had a vision while he was locked in the closet, and that his brother had been so desperate to stop it from coming true that he'd moved a china cabinet out of the way with his mind. Somehow, however, Sam had neglected to mention that the vision was of Dean being killed. No wonder he'd been so freaked.

The passenger-side door creaked open, and Dean quickly stuck the book under his seat as Sam climbed in. He smiled at his brother.

Sam's brow furrowed. "What?" he asked, pausing in the middle of distributing greasy lunch bags.

They were always on the defensive these days, Sam hiding his precious secrets, Dean his Hell horrors, both wary of each other and the coming storm. It was easy to forget that underneath that stubborn Goliath exterior was a kid who'd always been terrified of losing his big brother.

"Nothing," Dean said. "Thanks," he added sincerely as he accepted his burger and shake.

"No problem." Sam still looked a little uncertain, but his hackles slowly lowered.

It was the best meal they'd shared in a long time.

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_"Dream-Dean suddenly came to life, his eyes flickering open. They were pitch black. _

_Dean recoiled as his double sat up. _

_ 'You can't escape me, Dean. You're gonna die. And this…this is what you're gonna become.' "_

Sam tasted blood. With a wince, he released his lip from between his teeth.

A soft snore had him looking to his right, where Dean slept in a tight curl, face drawn even in repose. Probably having another nightmare he'd blow off when Sam asked. It wasn't fair that he'd dreaded Hell so long in his dreams beforehand and suffered through it in memories so long after.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered to the sleeper, since Dean wouldn't listen to him when he was awake. "I'm not gonna let that happen again, okay?"

He tucked the book under the bed, snapped the light off, and burrowed into the pillow. This time he would make sure he'd keep that promise.

00000

He was waiting for Sam when he stepped through the door.

"Seriously, Sam? When were you going to tell me?"

Sam's face scrunched up. "Tell you what?"

"About you getting _killed_, Einstein." He shoved the bound sheaf of papers into Sam's chest. "A little lightning strike not worth mentioning?"

_Wishful Thinking, _the title page said in bold letters. Sam's eyes widened. "I thought he didn't write any books after, you know, you died."

"Unpublished manuscript," Dean spat. "Quit changing the subject—how come I find out from _Chuck _that you were fried extra crispy in Concrete?"

"Wes undid the wishes, dude," Sam said soothingly, hand on Dean's chest.

Crap, Sam could probably feel how hard his heart was hammering. Dean jerked away. "Dude—_lightning strike."_

Sam threw up his hands. "You're right, okay? I should have told you. Even though it technically didn't happen and I'm totally fine and Wes was really sorry."

"Not sorry enough," Dean muttered. "You die any other times I don't know about?" He peered suspiciously at Sam.

Who seemed to find this all a little amusing, the bastard. "No?"

Dean's eyes widened. "Is that a question?"

"No! I just…you realize how many times we've died before, man?" Sam's mouth was twitching again. "You kinda lose track after a while." He blew out a breath. "We have the weirdest conversations."

Dean's lips thinned. "No more," he said flatly, jabbing Sam in the chest one last time with the manuscript. "You hear me? No more dying."

Sam's eyes seemed to go sad at that. Dean preferred the concealed mirth. "You too, all right?" Sam said, soft and a little bit pleading. "No more dying?"

Story of their lives.

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"Dude…you were perving on _Mom_?"

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He should've called Sam on it. Yelled at him from hiding something like this from him, because he had a right to know. Kicked his ass for keeping even family stuff a secret from him now.

All Dean felt, however, was grief.

" '_They're dead,' Sam said numbly. 'All of my mom's friends. Her doctor, her uncle—everyone who ever knew her, systematically wiped off the map one at a time.' "_

Ruby told him it was because of Sam, because of Yellow Eyes' plans for him. And Dean knew some of the secrets his brother kept were because of shame and denial, not a desire for subterfuge.

Still, Dean thought. If Sam could keep a secret like this, who knew what else was locked up in that big brain of his?

Sam appeared next to him, leaning down to speak through the open window. "The neighbors haven't seen anything. You think Cas is in there?" He nodded back over his shoulder at the Novak house.

"Maybe," Dean said coolly.

Sam's eyes tightened, then flicked down to the book in Dean's lap he was making no effort to hide. When they came back up, there was no remorse in them, just confusion and the calculation that characterized Sam of late. "Everything okay?" he asked slowly.

"Peachy," Dean said, tossing the book aside and swinging his door wide, almost hitting his brother in the process. "Let's go."

If Sam couldn't keep track anymore of all the things he was hiding… Well, lies had expiration dates, and Dean had a feeling they were coming due soon.

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"_The heat was unbearable, the drop, eternal. Strung above it was a spider web of chains. And there was Dean, suspended in the middle, thick hooks speared through his shoulder, his legs, his side. His face was bloody and sweaty, his eyes blown wide with agony and terror. _

_ 'Sam!' he screamed. _

'_SAAAAM!' "_

Sam had the scene burned into his brain, but he read it over again as penitence, and reminder.

"Sam, you coming?" Ruby asked from behind him.

Sam inhaled a watery breath and brushed his eyes clear. Dean didn't believe him, but Sam was doing this for his brother. Maybe after whatever happened that evening in the convent, he'd be the same place Dean had once been, strung out in Hell. But he'd promised Dean never again, and he meant it.

Sam nodded, slipping the book back into his duffel and closing the trunk. "Yeah."

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" '_You know, I tried so hard to keep you safe.'_

_Sam nodded. 'I know.'_

_Dean's face folded in sorrow. 'I can't.' He dropped the gun. 'I'd rather die.' "_

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_ " 'Hey, hey, oh, no, no, no, not like this…'_

_Dean's eyes lost focus and fluttered shut. He went limp in Sam's arms. _

_ Devastated, Sam started to sob."_

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_ " 'He's my brother.' "_

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_ " 'He's my family.' "_

Sam curled up on the bed with _The Benders, _the only book he'd happened to have in his duffel when he'd said goodbye to Dean outside River Pass. Bad memories, like most of Chuck's books, but he found himself reading over and over the parts where Dean was looking for him, drawing comfort from his brother's devotion and obvious love.

He wouldn't accept that he'd destroyed it all. Couldn't accept it.

_" 'Look, here's the thing. When we were young, I pretty much pulled him from a fire. And ever since then, I've felt responsible for him. Like it's my job to keep him safe. I'm just afraid if we don't find him fast—please.' Dean's voice broke. 'He's my family.' "_

Even as the page blurred, Sam kept reading.

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_" 'He's my family.' "_

Dean wanted to chuck the book against the wall. He should've sent the whole series off with Sam. The past held nothing but misery.

Somehow, he'd still found himself pulling out the worn copy of _Scarecrow, _thumbing to the most well-read parts.

_ " 'Jess and Mom—they're both gone. Dad is God knows where. You and me. We're all that's left. So, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together.' "_

He wondered where Sammy was, if he was watching his back, getting enough sleep, eating.

_" 'I can't. I'm sorry.'_

_ Meg gave him a miserable look. 'Why not?'_

_ Sam answered quietly, 'He's my family,' "_

Maybe… Dean rolled onto his back in the bed, staring at the ceiling through watery eyes. Maybe he'd give Sam a call the next day, just to see how he was doing.

**The End**


End file.
